Martin's Injury Fells Cincinnati

Bearcats' Ncaa Dreams Ruined

MEMPHIS — The X-rays were just a formality, a reason for everyone else in the building and back on campus in Cincinnati to cling to the hope Kenyon Martin already had left behind.

Martin understood before anyone what had happened as soon as he fell awkwardly to the floor of The Pyramid, his lower right leg trapped beneath his 230-pound frame. As Martin sat on the floor, at the sudden end to his senior season at the University of Cincinnati, he told Bob Huggins the news his coach wanted desperately not to hear: His leg was broken.

Just 3:04 into the quarterfinal round of the Conference USA tournament, the hopes of the nation's top-ranked team and the championship dreams of the likely national player of the year were broken too, perhaps irreparably.

"I just told coach, `We've worked too hard for this to happen now,'" Martin said.

He suffered a fractured right fibula and ligament damage when he fell in the lane while attempting to set a screen against Justin Love of St. Louis. Angelo Colosimo, Cincinnati's orthopedic surgeon, said surgery could take place as soon as Friday, rehabilitation would begin immediately and Martin could expect a complete recovery.

But in one decisive moment, one week after Martin's stunning takeover of the victory over DePaul, a series of implications began to become clear. Not since Scott May of Indiana suffered a broken arm 25 years ago, in a Hoosiers season that was undefeated until a two-point, regional final loss to Kentucky, has an injury had such an impact on the tournament.

Cincinnati lost 68-58 to a Billikens team it beat by 43 points five days before. Not long ago the Bearcats, 28-3, were considered the favorite to win their first national championship since 1962. Now they could lose the chance to become a No. 1 seed.

Injuries that affect a team's performance are a consideration under the procedures the NCAA tournament committee uses to select and seed the 64 teams. Staggered by the loss, the Bearcats were forced to confront their sudden limitations.

Martin's remarkable improvement at the offensive end, with a 19.5-point scoring average that nearly doubled his previous best, was seen as representing the value of an increasingly rare four-year college career. Privately officials from several schools and the conference office wondered how many agents already had begun to make calls on their cellular phones to underclassmen.

Martin blocked 107 shots, a school and conference season record, for a career total of 292. He joined Oscar Robertson as the only players to lead Cincinnati for three seasons in any statistical category. But Martin's most significant value to his team could be found not in sheets of statistics but in the quiet words of a shaken coach.

"He tells them where to go," Huggins said quietly. "He's got a better understanding of what's supposed to happen than any player I've ever had."

During the ambulance ride to Campbell's Clinic, where X-rays confirmed the worst, Martin asked to find a broadcast on the radio. Then he asked if he could return to the arena. He sat one row behind the Bearcats bench, his right leg supported by a chair, a pillow beneath his new cast.

A security officer sat to his left, an Ohio sheriff's deputy to his right. When the Bearcats came within three points with 1:16 to go, Martin turned toward the stands, lifted his palms toward the roof and waved his arms the way he had so many times at home in the Shoemaker Center.

"Tell 'em, Kenyon," a voice from the Cincinnati section screamed.

But most of the time Martin sat quietly, his arms folded across his chest, the tatoo with the Japanese words for "Never Satisfied" on his left forearm hidden.

"It's just a break," he said. "People recover from that. It's not my knee, it's not my Achilles."

Cincinnati must begin its own recovery, one week before the start of the NCAA tournament. Huggins, his signature rage muted by the circumstances, appeared to make pleas rather than demands as he searched for solutions.

"I was probably as close to him as anybody I've ever had," Huggins said.

As Martin set the screen against Love, he appeared to slip and fall at an angle.

"I didn't see it," Love said. "I was behind the play. He was behind me. I was facing toward the other basket, playing defense. I saw him go down. I didn't notice it until he was on the floor and he called over his people to come get him."

The sadness extended down the corridor to the winning team's dressing room.

"We'll be excited," St. Louis coach Lorenzo Romar said. "We'll talk about it for years to come. But it was very sad to see the best player in college basketball go down the way he went down ...

"It's one thing for a player to go down like that and hurt a team's chances to play at a top level. But it's another thing when you have a guy who plays with as much zeal and zest and enthusiasm as Kenyon Martin does. Except when we play him, I love to watch him play."